Virus
by aggirl53
Summary: A pandemic is sweeping the globe, causing panic amoungst the nations. After a little mishap over dinner, Germany finds himself stuck with Italy as the world turns to chaos. Will they be able to survive? Ger/Ita, human names used, yaoi.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. **

The choking black vines melted away to reveal the dark abyss of night. Considering the circumstances, it was equally terrifying for Ludwig, heart thumping under his white t-shirt, to see the darkness around him, but his senses soon caught up with him. He let go of his sheets and scanned the perimeter around his bed. Good. No vines.

But a new problem made itself known as he attempted to swallow. It was as if he devoured sand in his sleep, or maybe gulped down a few cotton balls. Sighing in disdain, he yanked back the sheets and proceeded to pad across the cold floor with bare feet.

The night was harsh, not as much as morning promised to be, but none the less obnoxious. Ludwig cursed his blasted nightmare, the chilly kitchen, and the light radiating off the television. He turned on the tap. His mind wandered as he scooped the water to his lips.

_What time is it?_

_When did I turn the TV on?_

_I need to get back to sleep. I still have to fill out some finance papers. _

Water droplets littered the counter after Ludwig shook his hands dry. He pushed the tap off with his wrist, wandering towards the refrigerator. When he yanked open the door, a blast of cold and light assaulted his senses, and he sighed in dismay.

"…has spread to five countries in a matter of two days. Officials are saying it's a more violent strain of strep throat, but with deadly effects. As of this morning, the United States has issued public school closings in twenty-six states."

_What? _

The man released the door and it closed with a soft thud. His eyes locked onto the blurry screen as he stepped forward to run his hand along the side. He pressed a button and watched as the little green blocks stacked horizontally along the screen, the crisp voice of some American news reporter filling Ludwig's apartment.

He awoke again with a total of two hours of sleep. After watching the news for a half hour, Ludwig ended up staring at the ceiling for another hour, then rolled around restlessly until dawn peeped over the closed curtains. The start of sleep had been interrupted, though, by the phone.

_Damnit all. _

His hand wandered across the bedside table. He yanked the phone out of the charger, and pulled it to his ear while pressing the answer button in one swift motion.

"Vhat?" he drawled.

"Have you seen the news, Germany?" asked the choppy voice of his ally Japan. His monotone voice held traces of concern, not enough to alert the average person, but enough to pipe Germany's interest.

"Uh, yeah, some virus?" replied Ludwig. Pushing himself up, Ludwig leaned against the headboard, covers around his waist.

"America's called for a world meeting," said Japan. Ludwig rolled his eyes, even though his ally obviously couldn't see him.

"Alveady? Why?"

"He says it's the worst he's ever seen. Overnight he shut down all his schools, and it's spread to three more countries."

"Drama queen."

"I don't know, Germany, it's pretty bad."

"Whatever. When and where?"

"New York, ten o'clock tomorrow night. I can meet you at the airport if you want."

"Sure, whatever."

It was as if a hospital and Greek architecture melted together to form a childhood queen's palace. Ludwig scanned the perimeter disdainfully. America had this tendency to make everything overly grand, and quite frankly, it was tacky.

Attempting to visualize the earth-toned villas of his homeland, Ludwig wandered towards his appointed seat. The crowd of countries muddled about, whispering medical jargon like "strains," and "quarantine periods." The atmosphere was more charged than it had been in past meetings, which were comparable to a middle school ice cream social since the countries gossiped a majority of the time, and it was jarring to see the empty seats of the missing countries. Instead, there was a hush over the crowd, as if the virus could hear them. Ludwig sat down and pulled open his book. If he was lucky, this change in atmosphere would preoccupy the other countries and they would leave him alone for once.

But then someone walked into the room.

Ludwig glanced up from his book and his eyes were met by two brown orbs taking in the mess of countries chatting about the hall. It was startling to see this sudden burst of life in the room. The young man held his shoulders high, not in a haughty way, more like a flower reaching for the sun, and his stride was only comparable to a dance or a skip. Looking about the room, one could see the way his shoulders tensed up as he took in the conversations of "antibiotic resistance," and "contagious tendencies." But aside from that, his lips still played with a smile, and he laughed often. Ludwig could not help but openly stare at the slender boy when he dutifully followed behind a darker haired version of himself towards the front of the room.

_What just happened?_

"Japan," called Ludwig. The stoic man was sitting in the seat behind him, filing through some paperwork calmly. He looked up.

"Yes?" he said.

"Who's he?" asked the German, gesturing towards the boy. Japan's dark eyebrows came together as he analyzed the brunette, squinting like a professor peering into a microscope. The boy talked animatedly to his darker counterpart, hands moving about the air like he was leading a symphony. Japan nodded.

"Judging from the way he's talking with his hands, I'm guessing that's probably one of the Italy brothers," replied Japan at last. Ludwig frowned.

"Ja, but vhat's his name?" questioned Ludwig. Japan shrugged.

"I don't know. Why don't you ask him?" he replied.

"_Ja, richtig_," muttered Ludwig, rolling his clear blue eyes. The Japanese man leaned foreword.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing."

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you want to know?"

"No reason, I've just never seen him before."

"Ah."

"Thought maybe he knew something about the virus. I heard it's moving west to east."

"Really?"

"Ja." Ludwig turned around in a vain attempt to his the red crawling up his neck. Hopefully Japan wouldn't breach the subject once the meeting began, otherwise Germany would have to concoct another lie as to where he heard the false information from. And then he would blush again. And that would suck.

A bouncy voice sliced through Ludwig's train of thought, making the German lurch in his chair.

"Hey everyone, let's get this meeting started!" America announced, slamming a gable against a polished wood podium. It shook the ground all the way to the first table and Ludwig reached out to steady his cup of coffee.

_Uh. _

"My fellow countries," yelled America dramatically "We are facing a national crisis unlike anything we've seen before." His eyes swept across the crowd. It like the opening to some B-rated sci-fi flick, and despite the dire circumstances, Ludwig found himself doodling in his notebook as America launched into some melodramatic speech. He started shading in squares as America jumped about the stage, capturing the audience with crisply enunciated facts and shocking statistics. He spun tales about the school closings, and the rising numbers of infected. Ludwig refrained from reigning in the calamity, which was like a pot of water on the stove, heating to a boil as America gave an Oscar-worthy performance.

At last, the meeting took a recess for lunch. Ludwig and maneuvered his way through the pale crowd that chatted loudly. He heading into the dining hall, found his seat, and cracked open a book.

The chattering returned all too quickly as the countries filed into the room. Ludwig felt something brush his should and he glanced up.

It was the Italian.

"Oh, _dispiace signore_," he piped. His voice was light as Champaign, and he grinned brightly. Unlike the rest of the crowd, he appeared completely oblivious to the pending destruction, like a daisy swaying in the wind of a storm. It was unnerving.

Ludwig didn't bother to respond. He went back to reading as the Italian skipped away. A few minutes later, he was back.

"Hello there! This seems to be my seat," Italy chirped.

_Of course. _

The lithe boy pulled back a chair and it scraped against the wood floor loudly. He eased into the seat, fidgeting around until he was comfortable. A group of countries found their seats nearby, and he chatted with them cheerily. Ludwig pulled his book closer to his face.

The meal came, a basic steak and potatoes lunch. Ludwig busied himself with meticulously cutting up the steak. Beside him, the Italian whined about pasta for a while, than munched on the steak by cutting a piece, eating it, and starting the process over again. Ludwig wondered why he didn't just cut it all up at once, but decided not to ask.*

Italy's glass was filled up yet again, the bubbly red liquid spiraling like a tidal wave, then settling back to a calm surface. He giggled and took a sip. The wine had a bitter bite to it, but was rich and well aged. It reminded the young man of home, so he took another swing.

"And I heard from the rumors-" Italy hiccupped, making the allies around him snicker "t-that England and America are-"

"Uh, Feliciano, you're out of wine," interrupted England, grabbing the empty glass and shoving it under Italy's nose. Italy frowned and took it from him.

"_Ah, che peccato_!" he whined. The other allies nodded as if they spoke Italian. Italy reached across the table, his fingers brushing the crystal pitcher. Falling back into his seat, he swayed to the side.

"What the-" Ludwig said, looking down to see the Italian man hanging on his arm. He giggled and took the glass sitting beside Germany's meal. Ludwig just sat there, a flush crawling up his neck, biting his tongue to the point of tasting blood in his mouth.

Italy took a sip and made a face.

"Ve, just water. Do you have any wine, mister?" Behind him, the group of allies were laughing hysterically as Germany muttered something about not drinking wine. Italy didn't appear to be paying attention, though, as another loud calamity was going on across the room. Germany finally turned around to see what he was staring at.

It was Japan, surrounded by a group of countries and he was bent on the floor coughing.

Untangling himself from the dazed young man, Germany hurried across the room, leaving the drunkards behind. When he arrived on the scene, he found America pacing back and forth on his cell phone and the crowd backing away slowing. Looking down, he saw speckles of blood on the carpet.

"Vhat's going on?" he yelled. Screaming answered him, people hurrying away with their shirts over their noses. A shaking America whispered into the cell phone, eyes locked on Japan.

"The virus," wheezed Japan from the floor. Ludwig bent down, placing a hand on his ally's back.

"Vhat?" he said.

"Just get away, I don't want you-"

"No, vhat's going on? This morning you were fine, it can't be the-"

"Germany, get away from him, he's contagious!" yelled America, snapping his cell phone shut. He didn't move from across the room, but gestured frantically from his spot near the door. A mob of people rushed out the door, herded by France and a slightly drunk England, who were yelling in thick accents for everyone to stay calm.

"He doesn't have the virus! It's probably something else, why is everyone panicking like this?" yelled Germany back. Japan coughed again, a glob of blood sliding out of his mouth and onto the light yellow carpet.

It wasn't until tears rolled down Japan's cheeks that Germany began to panic.

They entered the questioning room. Sitting down at a polished wood table, the agent pulled out a plastic covered iPad and adjusting the light blue face mask slipping down his greasy nose.

"Okay, let's get this over with," he sighed, tapping at the screen. Ludwig looked at his reflection in the polished wood floor and rubbed his hands together under the table. His stomach jumped around like a caged animal, and all he could think about was the look on Japan's face as they carried him off on a stretcher. The agents came soon after. America's, of course, and wearing bio suits that sent another wave of panic over the crowd waiting in the lobby. They only pulled a few countries, though, and the rest were sent back to their homelands.

"First question. How much time did you spend with the infected?"

"Vhat?"

"How many hours were you in contact with Japan?"

"Two hours in the shuttle from the airport. And, uh, we sat near each other at the meeting."

"Did you sit together at dinner?"

"No."

"Alright…" he tapped at the iPad for a while. Finally, the agent spoke again.

"What is your relationship with the infected?"

"Friends, I guess. Why does it matter?"

"Just a standard question. In the past day, approximately how many people have you come into contact with?"

"I don't know."

"Guess."

"Uh… well there was, uh, the taxi cab driver, and uh… the doorman. And then Japan. And, well, the people who sat next to me at dinner."

"Did you share any fluids with these people?"

"Fluids?"

"Kissing, sharing food, or-"

"No I- wait, there was one guy who drank out of my cup during dinner."

"Who was that?"

"Uh, he was one of the Italy brothers, I think. I'm not sure. He was drunk and-"

"Hold on a second," the agent played around with the iPad again. Finally, he lifted it up, and showed it to Ludwig.

"This man?" he questioned. Staring back at Ludwig was a plastic covered picture of Italy, smiling brightly at the camera behind a green, white, and red background. Ludwig nodded.

"Feliciano Vargas," said the agent "Sound familiar?"

"Not really, I didn't know him."

"Well," the agent snorted and stood up "Your about to get to know him."

"Vhat?"

"Just wait here. Someone will come and get you in a little while," and with that, the agent strode away, leaving Ludwig to pace the room for another hour.

The term was "quarantine" and, quite honestly, it sounded more obnoxious than frightening. Ludwig supposed they would just run a bunch of tests all night long, but no, now he was going to be stuck inside the hospital for the next week without even being able to stop home first.

The bio-suit agents led him through a maze of hallways, all the way down into the basement were windows shown into dim-lit rooms stocked with beds and toilets. To Ludwig it looked more like a jail than it did a hospital. They got to the final room in the hallway, and one agent stepped forward to unlock the door. Ludwig sighed and stalked in. They slammed the door shut behind him.

Ludwig scanned the room disdainfully, setting his bag down on the chair that rested next to the door. He was about to sit down on the bed when he heard a sniffling noise that stopped him dead in his tracks.

There on the floor sat the Italian, tears running down his face.

_Ja, richtig-_German, yeah right.

_dispiace signore- _Sorry sir.

_Ah, che peccato-_Ah, what a shame!

*In Italy, it is common for people to cut up there food as they eat opposed to cutting it before they eat it.

**A/N- Hey guys! So, this is my first ever Hetalia fan fiction, and I am super excited to be writing this! To let you all know a little bit about myself; 1. I'm a literature nerd. My previous fandom? Lord of the Flies, 2. I love reviews (duh, who doesn't…) but really, they encourage me to write, so review away! And 3. I take criticism well, so feel free to flame. I'll be working on the next chapter soon, and if you are looking for updates, check out my profile. I leave little musings on my profile and I have some pretty awesome polls (not…). Peace, love, and lunchboxes!-Paris **

**Song for the chapter: "Scheibe" by Lady Gaga**


	2. A Tearful Meeting

**Disclaimor: I do not own Hetalia. **

Germany was in a state of emergency and it wasn't because of the virus.

The Italian let out a choked sob, running his sleeve underneath his nose automatically. Fat tears rolled down his face and neck, not stopping until they stained the collar of his black button up shirt. On the floor beside him sat a forgotten blue jacket which he clutched like a child clinging to a security blanket.

He glanced up at Germany and gasped.

"Ah! _Chi sei_? _Per favore, non farmi del male_!" he squeaked, pulling the jacket to his lap. He curled up into a ball and stared at Germany with watery eyes.

"Uh," Ludwig started. He paused to shuffle his feet, swallowing in an attempt to deter a blush from creeping up his neck, and biting his lip as if it would help him find a proper formation of words that would resemble sensible English. The best he could come up with was:

"Uh… What?" The Italian burst into another round of tears and Ludwig sucked in air through his teeth.

"Wait, uh, d-don't cry!" he said, fluttering over to the Italian. His hands hovered above the weeping boy awkwardly.

"Who are you?" asked Italy in English this time. He peeked up to find Ludwig looming above him, and he winced, spluttering more Italian.

"_Oh mio Dio, ti prego non farmi del male, io sono così giovane! Abbi pietà, signore, I-" _

"Whoa, whoa, hold on. I don't speak Italian!" Ludwig said. He backed up a few steps, hoping to give the frantic boy some breathing room, but it had little effect. In fact, the Italian now hyperventilated.

_Joy. _

"Are you alright?" asked Germany. Ludwig glanced over his shoulder, peering up at the camera above in hopes of alerting the doctors to his cell-mate's impending panic attack. Unfortunately, it didn't appear as if he was getting any help anytime soon. They hadn't exactly been friendly about escorting him to the quarantine room, nor had they given him much information other than a brief explanation of what a quarantine was. If that was all they told Germany after demand upon demand for information, how little did they tell the meek Italian?

"I-I this…. Who…." said Italy, his voice fading as his teeth began to chatter. Ludwig sighed out his nose and sat down on the bed. Above them, the air conditioner rattled to life, bringing goose bumps to Italy's skin, but Ludwig paid no heed and covered his face with his hands tiredly.

"What's your name?" whispered Italy after a while had passed.

"Ludwig Beilschmidt," replied Germany, lifting his face from his hands. Ludwig observed Italy's tear stained face as he faded from red to pink, and the way his shivering went from a rattle of his small frame to a slight quiver. Italy sniffed.

"Feliciano Vargas," he squeaked.

_And so he has a name._

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Vargas," said Ludwig, holding out a hand stiffly. Feliciano stared at his gloved hand for a second before grasping it with both hands and giving a firm shake. He sniffed again, his demeanor brightening.

"No need for that, call me Feli," he said. A small smile tugged on his lips, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. A silence settled upon them like sediment on the ocean floor after a storm. Feli pulled himself up right and wiped his nose on the corner of his jacket with a few loud sniffs while Ludwig darted his eyes around the room, apparently quite interested in the cobwebs clinging to the wall corners.

Feliciano crawled across the floor, stopping when he reached the laced combat boots of his new roommate. Ludwig lowered his eyes to meet the huge caramel orbs that watched him.

"Uh, vhat is it?" he asked. Feliciano crinkled his eyebrows together.

"You look like criminal, but you don't act like one," he said. Ludwig straightened up, his shoulders tensing and eyes taking on an analyzing spark.

"Criminal?" he said, his voice coming out much louder than intended. Italy sniffed, his lower lip beginning to quiver, but he swallowed back the lump forming in his throat.

"_Si_. They wouldn't tell me what I did, they just locked me up here. Ve, I wish they would let me have a phone call like the American's do, because Lovino would be good with this kind of stuff and-"

"Wait, they didn't tell you why you're here?"

"No. Ve, I think it was because I was speeding on my way to the meeting….. but it was a Maserati and I was only twenty above the speed limit!" he whined, leaning back on his heels. Ludwig bit back a sarcastic comment about Feli's driving habits, and wrinkled his brow instead.

"This isn't a jail Mr. Var- Feli," he said slowly. Feliciano blinked rapidly and his mouth formed an O as he gaped up at the German in shock.

"What? But I thought-"

"We're in quarantine because I… well, you exposed yourself to the virus," said Ludwig. His jaw locked in defense against the onslaught of embarrassment that threatened to dance across his face. It wasn't his fault Feli drank from his glass. Feliciano cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy, thin arms crossed over his chest.

"What virus?" he asked. Now it was Ludwig's jaw that dropped.

"Uh, the one from the meeting," Ludwig said "Weren't you there?" It was no use. A blush bloomed on Ludwig's face once again, causing the German to grit his teeth and advert his eyes to the ceiling. He was fine until the image of Feliciano entering the room popped into his mind. Just thinking about the way the small boy's stride made his stomach bubble was enough to make Ludwig want to sink through the floor.

"Hmm…. Ah, yes! But I don't pay attention to those boring things, what did I miss?" asked Feliciano. But before Ludwig could answer, Feli's face lit up, and the lithe boy jumped to his feet. "Hey, I know you. Your Germany!" He skipped over to the bed, plopping down beside Ludwig with a smile. The German tried his best to keep a calm composure, but inside his stomach felt alive with a nest of bees. His mind was shooting off into unknown territories even though he attempted to refrain from the obvious question floating around in his brain.

_How does he know me? _

"Ah, I, uh…." Ludwig cleared his throat "Yes, I am. We sat next to each other at dinner, right?"

"_Si_, I remember. Kind of," Feliciano laughed, a pure noise unlike anything Ludwig had heard before. His laughter held a child-like innocence to it, something that was comparable to music or a soft summer breeze, but also resonated richly. "I was so drunk." Feli rolled his eyes and smiled.

"Um, yes… Actually, that's part of the reason you're here," said Ludwig "See, I've been exposed to this really bad virus. And when you were, um, drunk… you took a sip from my glass, exposing yourself to it. So now we have to stay quarantined to keep from spreading the virus." Feliciano nodded as Germany spoke, then looked around the room as if it had changed because of this explanation. He peered back at Ludwig and shrugged.

"Okay," Feli said simply. Ludwig stared at him for a second.

"Okay?" he repeated. Feliciano nodded, pushing himself off the bed so he could dive into the other one across from it. He pushed his boots off with the rail of the bed, curling up onto his side.

"Uh-huh. If that's the case-well, we'll be out of here in no time!" he said "Ve, I wonder if the food is any good."

_Chi sei_? _Per favore, non farmi del male- _Italian, Who are you? Please don't hurt me!

_Oh mio Dio, ti prego non farmi del male, io sono così giovane! Abbi pietà, signore, I- _Italian, Oh my goodness, please don't hurt me, I'm so young! Have mercy, sir, I-

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry the chappies so short. I promise the next one will be full of action and adventure and…. Reluctantly….. More fluff. I've decided to update this little story every Monday from now on, since I really need to be more disciplined with writing. Currently I'm writing this, a novel, 2 short stories, and a musical. I know. I have no life. So please, make my day and leave a review. Thanks! **


	3. Truth or Dare?

Ludwig ran as fast as his legs would allow. His heart raced, fed only by ragged breathes that provided barely enough oxygen to his screaming lungs. But the panic- injected adrenaline burned underneath his skin, and he forced his legs to keep pumping. The rolling black cloud edged closer and closer, tendrils of smoke wrapping around his ankles and solidifying into chains, until at last, he was yanked onto the cold, hard ground. He clawed at the floor as the chains dragged him into the smog.

"Foods here!"

Ludwig lurched up in bed, a cheerful voice unlocking the chains and blowing away the dust cloud. His breathing slowed, chest opening up and allowing sweet oxygen to dilute the burning sensation that currently occupied his lungs. He blinked and saw a pair of brown eyes watching him curiously from the foot of the bed.

"Ve, Luddy," whined Feliciano "They didn't bring us any pasta!" In his hands were two plastic- sealed trays, the saran wrap beading with condensation. As Germany sat up, the Italian pushed the plate under his nose, and Ludwig blinked rapidly like it was the first time he noticed it. He was still a little caught up on that nickname.

"Well ja, it's not like we could expect gourmet cooking. We're lab rats, remember?" said Ludwig, taking the tray from the smaller boy. Feliciano frowned thoughtfully into his mushy potatoes and colorless coleslaw. He poked at the mess with a plastic fork.

"_Suppongo che_," sighed Feliciano. He scooped up a mound of coleslaw, examining the way it slid around in an unnatural glob as he titled the fork from side to side. Ludwig, on the other hand, shoveled mounds of coleslaw into his mouth, chewing only enough to swallow and not to savor. Ludwig looked like a soldier fitting in a meal between lulls in the fire. Feliciano appeared a picky toddler.

Once the two finished their meals, Ludwig's plate spotless and Feliciano's smeared with leftover food, they returned to their rightful beds. Ludwig lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Feliciano was thrown in a position that could only be comfortable for a cat; one hand hanging over the headrest, chin against the edge of the bed with eyes focused on the ground, other hand tracing circles on the dirty ground. He kicked his feet through the air, flexed toes bouncing on the squeaky mattress.

"So when are we getting outta here?" sighed Feli after only a minute of silence passed. Ludwig sighed as well.

"Six days, granting neither of us show symptoms," replied Germany. Another silence fell over the room, but the two were so lost in their thoughts they didn't notice. Ludwig closed his eyes.

Would it have killed the doctors to give them a television?

Two hours passed, and Germany still lay on his bed in the exact same position. Feliciano's legs now rested against the wall with his back pressed against the mattress, but this was short lived as his legs fell asleep and he decided to return to a curled up fetal position. The boy had fidgeted the whole two hours, sighing in big gusts, and letting out a small whimper every so often. Ludwig ignored him.

"Luddy, I'm bored," Feliciano whined. Germany bristled at the nickname, idly wondering why this boy he barely knew found it fitting. Ludwig cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry… why don't you take a nap?" he suggested. Feliciano made some unidentifiable high-pitched noise and rolled off the bed. He slid across the floor to Ludwig's bed, resting his chin on the bed frame and staring at the flushing German with miserable eyes.

"Uh," Ludwig lurched up. Italy had absolutely no regard for personal space. His face had been mere inches away, so close Ludwig could smell the Italian's cologne.

The reason Germany was blushing again was because the cologne smelled good.

"Let's play a game," suggested Feli, crawling up onto the bed.

"Vhat?" said Ludwig.

"How about truth or dare?" said Feliciano. He plopped down Indian style on the bed, hugging Ludwig's pillow under his chin. Ludwig rested his back against a bedpost, watching the lithe boy with wide blue eyes.

"Are you serious?" he said. Feliciano glanced up at him and nodded vigorously, causing a few locks of hair to fall in front of his eyes. Ludwig looked away at the cute spectacle.

"_Si_! I've seen it on TV and it looks fun!" Feliciano piped enthusiastically. Ludwig refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Eh, vhy not?" he muttered. _Might as well shut the kid up for a while _he thought.

Letting out an excited _ve_, Feli threw the pillow into the air, and it fell back to earth, only missing the bedside lamp by a few centimeters. He scooted closer to Ludwig, and the German had to refrain from scooting back.

"Okay, okay," said Feli as he clapped his hands together and set them on his lap. His eyes turned deadly serious, flashing as he stared directly at Ludwig, who avoided the younger man's gaze at all costs. Taking a deep breath, Feliciano asked:

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth," answered Ludwig automatically. Feliciano let out a whine, unclasping his hands to cross his arms over his chest with a pout. At last Germany glanced at him, eyebrows coming together and smirk playing on his lips.

"Vhat's wrong?" he asked, although he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"You didn't even _think_ about it," whined Feli "And I had a really good one for dare too!"

"Alright zen, dare," said Ludwig.

"No, you already chose truth!" pouted Feli "It's against the rules to change."

"Rules?" smirked Ludwig. Feliciano squirmed, leaning back on his heels and squinting at Ludwig like he was staring directly at the sun. His face dawned with an idea, eyes lighting up as he let out yet another "ve."

"I got it! Okay Luddy, who do you have a crush on?" he asked. Germany's stomach twisted like he just sucked down a shot of alcohol, but he was able to recover quickly before his mind raced off in several different directions. It was just an innocent question. Something Feli probably got from television, especially since the term "crush" was so overwhelmingly middle school in nature.

"No one," replied Ludwig, earning another whine from Feliciano. "Vhat? It's the truth." Feli buried his face in another pillow and mumbled something incoherent. "Vhat?" Lifting his head, Feli repeated:

"_Non sei molto bravo in questo gioco_," Italy smiled at the German's baffled expression "You're not very good at this game."

"I didn't realize it took skill," mumbled Ludwig.

"Ve, you're turn!" giggled Italy. He bounced his knees against the mattress excitedly and glanced up with Ludwig with wide eyes only comparable to that of an eager puppy. Germany muttered an unenthusiastic "Truth or dare," and Italy instantly answered "Truth!" with another giggle. Ignoring the hypocrisy of this response, Germany stared up at the ceiling in an attempt to come up with a question that would suffice to satisfy Feliciano.

"Uh, who do you have a… 'crush' on?" said Ludwig, air quoting the word "crush." Feliciano's brown eyes widened.

"No ask-backs!" he said, pointing at Ludwig like he was caught red-handed committing a crime. Germany's eyebrows came together and he frowned.

"What ze hell is an ask-back?" Ludwig asked.

"Ve, it's where you ask the same question back to me," replied Feli "It's against the rules." Ludwig sighed, running his hands through his disheveled blonde hair.

_It's going to be a long day…. _

_Suppongo che- _Italian, I suppose.

_Non sei molto bravo in questo gioco-_Italian, You're not very good at this game.

**A/N-Hey guys, so sorry this took me forever to upload, I've been in a major slump of writers block for this project. Right now on my other writing website wattpad, I've got a really popular story that has been consuming my time. But I have not forgotten about my Hetalia love! Hopefully my next update will be…. About a week? Give or take. I'll try to be timely for my lovely fan girls. Also, if anyone wants to design a cover for this, it would be much appreciated for a lazy writer like myself.**

**Song for the chapter: "Love Like Whoa" by The Ready Set **

**Critique or flame, but please review! Thanks!**


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